When Our Worlds Collide
by UndeadRelations
Summary: Tommy grows uncomfortably used to being a human, until his new identity as Arthur and his obsession with dream share is rudely interrupted by the alien family he'd been happy to leave behind. Eames gets dragged along for the ride. For the finished version please visit: /works/8296718/chapters/19003895
1. 1 Outgrowing Skin

Tommy had long grown weary of the human species, bored on his task at gathering information about the stagnant aliens who inhabited Earth. They seemed to repeat themselves, never moving forward, too obsessed with trivial disputes. War, racism, classism, sexism, homophobia, nationalities, politics, the lack of space exploration; how did they ever get stuck with such a primitive planet? Honestly, they even referred to those in their own species as 'aliens' just for being from a neighboring country. Such small minded creatures.

Perhaps more bewildering was the social obsession with sex. Tommy had been the oldest in his crew when they had taken on human form, and adjusting to the rush of hormones in going through puberty was blinding. It had lead to his asexual logic being overrun by impulsive and rather unnecessary relationships. Eventually he realized the drama brought on by these self absorbed humans who couldn't even see beyond the limitations of their own small spec in space. He had watched the ridiculous going on of Dick's attempts to adjust to this planet, though he was the youngest and quite juvenile in how he handled things. It seemed his blinding relationship with Dr. Mary Albright had diluted Dick's connection with their origins, and Tommy wanted nothing to do with it. Pursuing relationships was merely a roadblock in his mission, which was what drove his purpose anymore.

Moving on to college made him realize what a joke his public high school education had been, but he absorbed all the information he could, nonetheless. He graduated with a 4.0 within two and a half years, head of his class, but Tommy resisted the idea of a typical human job which would hardly sate his appetite for knowledge. He was uninterested in the trivialities of gaining wealth, this concept of capitalism all so primitive. Instead, always intrigued by conspiracy theories, Tommy sought a military career to see what truths he might be able to unravel.

Dream share had been in the beginnings when Tommy had been introduced to and excelled in it. He hadn't meant to be distracted by the project, but it appealed to him in a way nothing else about humanity had been able to.

When Tommy had first experienced dreaming in his sleep as a human teenager, it had been overwhelming. He had never been the most creative type, enjoying systems and logic, but dreams it seemed were beyond his control and wildly illogical. Adjusting to his human brain had been one thing, but the onslaught of sudden visions in his sleep had intrigued him in a way he'd been disillusioned to.

He began experimenting with lucid dreaming into college, to see just how to manipulate and inform the workings of his own subconscious. It was a guilty pleasure for some time, being so obsessed with learning about a dimension of humanity that wasn't so cut and narrow, so easy to understand. So when the opportunity to expand that knowledge in a before unexplored facet called dream share arose, Tommy found himself jumping at the opportunity before he'd really thought about it.

His education allowed Tommy to appear exceptionally brilliant, and he was quickly accepted to work on the dream share project. His first task had been to design the settings in the dreams, to be an architect. He was exacting and geometric in his designs, wowing his employers with Escher like designs that weren't possible in reality, but seemed so in dream design.

After a while Tommy felt as though the project was stagnating and it lost momentum. The organization he worked for was too obsessed with warfare and working out military strategies. It had its merits for a while, but Tommy was less interested in the violent aspect, the repetitive tactic that humanity had used for resolving conflicts for far too long.

The project gradually lost funding as the scenarios were foiled by projections of the host's mind. Tommy saw the impending downfall of the operation, and so worked his hardest at strengthening his own subconscious. He would spend after hours working away when he couldn't sleep, used to insomnia when he grew obsessed about a subject. The nearing of the project's end, despite the denial of the project leaders, only seemed to further fuel Tommy's need to gather all information possible. Tommy was at the forefront of something groundbreaking, and he wanted to be the best in the business, just in case.

When his organization brought in outside affiliates as a last ditch effort to supplement their lack of advancement, Tommy was unimpressed by Dom and Mal, to say the least. He thought bringing on new recruits at this stage was an obstacle, considering most of his comrades already in the program paled in comparison to his dedication and competence.

That was until Tommy got the chance to teach Mal about the physics of a dream and how to build. She soaked up information and structure with next to no hesitation, and within the first day she was erecting architecture from the streets of France that Tommy had only seen in textbooks. Mal had an eye for detail that Tommy envied a little, though the emotion was one he quickly suppressed. If he was always surrounded by inferior beings how would he ever excel?

Mal had a cultured, well traveled and educated air about her, and was a fantastic storyteller. Tommy hadn't laughed like that since his adolescent years, not in a genuine fashion that wasn't condescending. He was so drawn to Mal and began looking forward to their time in dreams together. When the organization began to militarize the dreams Mal met eyes with Tommy, disappoint readable only to him, and in that moment he fell for her. Mal later confided that such violent endeavors were a waste of potential, and Tommy readily agreed, expressing his honest opinions for the project for the first time to another.

Cob on the other hand, Tommy held a great distaste for. Dom was quiet and reserved in a way that made Tommy unable to read him, even though he'd grown well versed in human psychological structures in his time as one. He didn't outright see the value in Dom's presence in the dream share project, and was exceedingly cold toward the other man. Tommy had never seen himself as the type to be trite and prideful until he was confronted with another human who made him uneasy. He had to keep himself in check so as not to try and sabotage Dom's place in the organization. It was only in their first shared dream between he and Cob that Tommy began to understand the man's merits.

Cob had an uncanny instinct when it came to dealing with the hostile projections in a foreign person's mind. Despite his seeming lack of knowledge in military strategies, he took to the unrealistic rules of a dream with ease, like it was second nature to him. Not even Tommy had adjusted to the structural constraints of dream manipulation so quickly.

Then Cob suggested the concept of extracting ideas from a person's mind, and Tommy's whole world was turned upside down. Despite the efforts of the three to pull off an extraction in a very limited set of time, the production was too little, too late. The project had been surviving on the dregs of its funding for two months already, and it was finally squashed out by the higher ups.

Tommy could more feel the moment when the idea of the project's termination sunk into Mal. Her response was a visceral sort of anger which Tommy could tell resonated with both he and Cob quite heavily.

They had been introduced to something quite groundbreaking and it had become integral to their personal being. Mal's ability to create in dreamscapes was limitless, Cob's ability to manipulate and deceive had just been becoming apparent, and Tommy felt a master of the intricacies of dreaming, having become the unofficial director of the dream plots himself.

There was a bewildering emptiness following their parting. They felt interconnected with each other, had seen parts of one another's psyche that was intimate beyond explanation. And now Cob was going back to his life of unspoken corporate espionage, Mal back to France because she felt she didn't fit in in the states, and Tommy was offered a position higher up the ladder in the military hierarchy.

It took Tommy all of five months for him to grow weary of his new position, providing pivotal information for projects he didn't even have the jurisdiction to know more about. Weeks of letter correspondence back and forth to Mal from Paris made him long for the world beyond his desk job. After all, he always told himself he wouldn't end up in this exact professional situation.

Never much of one to spend money on anything luxurious beyond a small collection of rather fancy suits, Tommy secretly began to transfer his earnings into a foreign mutual fund that Mal's father had recommended. His cryptic messages to Mal which privately referred to dream share began to talk of travel and adventure.

When Tommy requested assignment overseas for a specific information gathering expedition, he promptly and somewhat mysteriously died when his helicopter was shot down.

When Tommy died he adopted a new name, and began going by Arthur.  
the process he implemented was similar to the one used to introduce the Solomons into existence when Arthur's crew first became human.

Arthur introduced himself as such to Mal when they met in Prague, and she handed him the passport that verified his identity. From there the two kept on the move, visiting major cities all over the world and spending money on what they both considered a worthwhile expedition. All along the way Mal absorbed and sketched and memorized the variation in contemporary and ancient architecture.

They made their way through the les hostile parts of the Middle East, into Southern Asia and up the countinent's eastern shore before moving south toward Australia. They avoided the States, heading to Africa and South America, until Arthur was over saturated with cultural information and Mal had drown in the arts.

Under the surface of their travels had been the pursuit of certain persons of interest who Arthur had gathered the names of while still part of the dream share project. Of course, if the United States were developing such an advanced procedure, then there was value to it for other countries, especially in development for the black market.

Mal was under the impression that dream share should be like an open sourced software, free for others if they so desired to test and develop it. Arthur was a little more weary, but figured if they could unearth other people trying to make dream share a success, why not exchange information for information. After all it was the most valuable thing he knew of.

In Berlin they'd met a small group of independent technology enthusiasts who were trying to build their own dream device. In exchange for a comprehensive explanation of what was necessary to make a shared dream a reality, Arthur and Mal received contact for a team relatively near their home base in Paris.

The group expressed the desire for advice building the machine, but Arthur simply explained that was up to them since they had no experience actually putting one together. Of course, he had memorized the schematics that the United States government had employed, but at the start of this Mal and he had made a decision. They would not share more than they needed to gain loyalty, and the information to be shared last would be the actual building of the machines. That was not actually something they had experience with, but we're sure they would be able to build one without much difficulty.

The point was not to share that information until they themselves had time to create their own device, so as not to give too much advantage to the competition. Besides, if these individuals could not reach the ability to dream share in their own ambition, perhaps it was because they weren't yet meant to.

And so Arthur and Mal moved forward. In Stockholm they met a couple obsessed with lucid dreaming and the ability to be someone else in a dream. They had theorized that if one invaded another's subconscious they could potentially pass themselves off as another person entirely with enough practice. Mal explained to them a theoretical potential for actual dream share, hinting that it could be done. Intrigued, the couple began researching further, and introduced Mal and Arthur to a scientist in Singapore they might be interested in visiting.

The scientist was apparently exploring how to best sedate an individual for prolonged dreaming, and had a whole research division under her guidance. Intrigued, Mal and Arthur requested that they be put under with the drug, and then offered to become future clients of the product, whether it was legal or not. She introduced them to some of her brightest pupils, and the pair left with an extensive list of ingredients for what was later termed somnacin. They never had been able to secure the sedative used in the states or a list of its components.

Their travels continued in a similar fashion, from Dubai to Tokyo, Moscow to Seoul, Sydney to Cape Town. Arthur and Mal traveled the world creating their own private dream share network. Sometimes they would share clients names with one another, expanding the available collaborators and ideas in the community. As they got to know one group, the name of another would arise, until a number of preexisting connections became apparent.

Nearly two years later, Mal and Arthur were exhausted and ready to settle down once more. They moved to a fresh place in Paris, sleek and minimalist for Arthur with small historic accents for Mal. Upon contacting her father, Mal was reminded of several correspondence from Dom Cobb urging that he would like to come see Mal. After a short break, she made a few day trip to England to visit her father, and came back assured she'd found the next step in their expedition. She wouldn't fill Arthur in, but when he read Cobb's letters he seemed to hint at having built his own passive device.

Not two weeks later Arthur opened the door to Cobb at their doorstep.

"What are you doing here?" Arthur asked none too sincerely.

"Arthur," Cobb responded shortly. "Is Mal in?"

"Dom!" Rang Mal's voice from inside, and she brushed by Arthur to extend her arms for a hug. "How were your travels? You must tell me all about them."

"From what I've heard you and Arthur are the ones with stories to tell."

"Are we ever," Mal said cheerily. "Come, let us toast. This is an occasion for celebration! Non?"

Dom smiled softly, the way Arthur had only ever seen him smile around Mal. It was heartfelt and ate at Arthur a little, but as the night went on and high class wine was shared, he lightened up. Dom seemed to loosen a little as he spent more time with the two of them, as if for the past two and a half years he hadn't shown anything but a professional demeanor.

Arthur never thought he was capable of connecting on a deeper level with other humans. Mal and Dom tore down those barriers and dug themselves in, deep.

And so began their notorious development and exploits at the head of dreamshare.


	2. 2 Aftermath Repurpose

After the Fischer job, Arthur had been reluctant to work with anyone he already knew for some time. He still had his updated version of the dream share international network outlined in his head: extractors, architects, chemists, forgers…

The problem with building new connections was separating the rumors from the realities. He needed competent people to work with and if he'd already found a few, why fix what isn't broken?

But working with Ariadne, Yusuf and Eames brought back painful memories of Mal's part in the inception job. Arthur liked to think he'd never been one to be driven by emotion, say for his teenage years when the inability to cope with his human body was the norm.

Now there was a certain anxiety that ate away at him. Dom had retired, after all he'd lead Arthur through, after all Arthur had done for him after Mal's suicide.

Arthur sighed. Damned emotional species.

Arthur zoned back into the public chess game he started with himself. The day was overcast but the air lacked the distinct smell of oncoming rain.

"Darling, if you wanted company all you had to do was ask."

"Don't you have somewhere to be Mr. Eames?" Arthur startled, unable to come up with anything else to say.

"And where would that be?"

Anywhere but here, Arthur wanted to say.

"Mind if I join?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"I suppose you do," Eames smiled with a shrug.

Arthur setup the board in concede.

"I spoke with Dom," Eames said after nearly 20 minutes playing in silence. He hadn't actually, Dom had been so distracted by the opportunity to see his children he'd left them all, but it seemed like a good way to confront Arthur.

Eames made for a formidable opponent. Arthur could feel Eames' eyes on his face, perhaps looking for some kind of emotional strain or tell. If Arthur gave anything away he didn't much care, he was too exhausted to keep up with a facade.

"What did he say," Arthur stated more than asked.

"He suggested that I might accompany you in your next endeavor."

Arthur's brow furrowed, he couldn't help it. He figured Dom knew with some paternal instinct that Arthur had grown used to having someone around. He had left an old life to begin again and Mal had been there for the whole ordeal. Then when she was gone there was Dom, fighting for his right to see their children, to see the small humans Mal had left behind.

"I don't need looking after," Arthur said but his heart wasn't in it.

"I know you don't," Eames offered. "But I would like to accompany you nonetheless."

Eames reached to rest his hand over Arthur's in support for his grief. He tensed, jaw clenching, but Eames' hand was cool and firm and Arthur felt himself relax a little. He slumped back in his seat with a huff and Eames smiled softly. His thumb rubbed along Arthur's hand before pulling away.

Arthur wasn't one to long for another's touch, he'd always taken care of his human needs as they arose, but he missed the weight of Eames' heavy hand. It made Arthur more comfortable that Eames touched long enough to assure, but not to insinuate a desire for more. Arthur appreciated the other man's ability to respect boundaries when it was appropriate, to observe and absorb the other person's desires. That was what made him a good forger after all.

Arthur was a little confused, identifying as aromantic because he watched so many people in human relationship sacrifice their dreams and life goals just to settle down with another. It made his life simple and drama free, easy to do whatever he wanted with his own life. However, as he approached his thirties, Arthur was a little unsettled. He'd grown used to always having someone at his side, Mal and Dom, but never someone for himself.

"Check," Arthur called, brow furrowing. "Mr. Eames. Did you let me win?" Arthur demanded.

"Of course not, Darling. It must have been your solid strategy," Eames assured with his poker face as he moved a piece to block Arthur's queen.

Arthur was so distracted he knew very well he was not playing the game well considering how poorly he'd already been playing against himself before Eames showed up. If Eames played chess like he gambled, there was no way Arthur could have won.

"Check mate," Arthur said, knocking over Eames' rook.

"Best two out of three?" Eames offered in submission.

"Only if you actually play this time Eames," Arthur glared as he set up his side of the board again.

"Of course, Arthur."

* * *

Following that day in the park, Arthur and Eames toured around working small jobs that came their way. Once word of Dom Cobb's exploits spread throughout the dream community, the point man and forger had no trouble finding work. The hard part was explaining to some who wanted to hire them why their ideas for inception weren't feasible, and that it was Arthur and Eames' choice how they wanted to handle a job once they were on it. It seemed that while jobs were in abundance, so were clients who felt the need to micromanage.

Arthur had been in the dream share community since its conception, could almost say he and Mal were the ones who had built the "community" to begin with. Having Eames by his side made his work considerably easier when it came to choosing a job or negotiating with clients. Dom had always known what to say or how to sell something, but Arthur just didn't have the patience for it anymore. Eames however, seemed to know how to not only listen, but just what to say to convince the client to agree with him.

Arthur was reluctant to grow used to Eames' presence and was frustrated once he realized he'd already done so. It seemed Eames was used to his own solitude, leaving Arthur for several spontaneous hours to explore the city or go for a walk. The alone time between them made their time together more comfortable, and a sense of companionship and understanding began to arise.

Eames sometimes looked at Arthur with more longing than he'd admit, and was sometimes grateful for the man's obliviousness. Other times Eames wished he could kiss Arthur when he grinned because something Eames had done pleasantly surprised him. However, Eames could read the reasons why Arthur kept a physical and emotional distance from others. He had spent so much time people watching and getting to know every personality he could, that it was easy to see Arthur's complete disinterest in sexual partners.

He never spent time looking for companionship or friends with benefits. Eames was astonished he'd even managed to become a consistent part of Arthur's life. Lucky for him he had something valuable to offer Arthur: his skills as a forger. Becoming unspoken business partners just evolved naturally and before he knew it, Arthur was asking his opinions on different people to work with in the community.

Finally they came to the end of a period of non stop work without much serious in the lineup for the next few weeks.

"Would you stop pacing about," Eames looked up from his book at Arthur.

"I can't help it," Arthur snapped. "I need a job."

"We just pulled off one of the most complicated heists in dreamshare history a few months back and you want more work?" Eames scoffed. "As if the last six months of easy jobs was nothing to you." Leaning back Eames sighed contentedly in the sun where he lounged on the deck. "Take the time for a holiday before you work yourself to death."

"I hate sitting around," Arthur argued.

"Clearly."

Arthur scoffed then retreated back into the apartment.

"Ey!" Eames called after him, turning his head but Arthur wasn't visible. "If you come back out here with that laptop I'm going to throw it over the railing!"

"Did you say something?" Arthur asked as he sat down a moment later to open his laptop.

"Hol-i-day, Arthur," Eames said. "It means when you take a proper week or two where you don't work so you don't go mad. You should try it sometime."

"Waste of time," Arthur said distractedly as he skimmed through his emails.

"No wonder you've got a bloody stick up your-"

"Becket and Wiler have some positions open for a job," Arthur said.

"Becket is a kleptomaniac who just wants to steal all of his client's secrets and Wiler can't hold loyalty to her client for more than 24 hours. I wouldn't bother with them," Eames suggested, lowering his sunglasses over his eyes and reclining further in his chair.

"Have you even worked with them or are you just repeating rumors?" Arthur said defiantly.

"Rumors, Arthur, are rooted in truth," Eames said pointedly.

"Well that's the only lead we've got at the moment," Arthur huffed in disappointment.

"Looks like you'll just have to take the day off then," Eames said triumphantly, reaching over to snap Arthur's laptop shut.

Arthur sighed and flopped back into his own chair, arms overhead. Eames laid back again, reaching down and across himself to pick up some fruity cocktail he'd made up and handed it to Arthur.

"Relax, Darling," Eames said softly. "Seriously."

"I'm not your darling," Arthur mumbled, taking the drink defiantly so he could scrutinize its concoction after the first sip. He paused, Eames eyeing him speculatively, then began to drink again, apparently enjoying the taste. Eames just smiled.

Arthur and Eames enjoyed the silence between them, listening to the constant hum of the city streets beneath them. Impressed Arthur was able to sit still for so long, Eames looked over to see Arthur's eyes half lidded beneath his sun glasses. It seemed the heat of the sun both warmed Arthur and seemed to enhance the exhaustion he hadn't let himself admit in a long time. As Arthur relaxed further, he drifted into sleep and Eames decided to nap as well. Something about seeing Arthur relaxed put Eames in a deep state of unexplainable ease.

They both dozed in the afternoon sun, Eames waking to look over, not expecting Arthur to still be there. He smiled at Arthur's gentle expression as he slept and dared to creep his own hand over. Eames threaded his fingers with the hand that Arthur hung off of the chair and let himself doze off again.

Arthur slept strangely hard in the light of the sun. After the tragedy with Mal, Arthur only knew how to distract himself with work. Emotions were the last thing he needed to deal with.

But as Arthur dreamed, one of those rare times since those in dream share rarely naturally did, his emotions surfaced. He saw Mal, and Arthur moved toward her before she burst into flames. Mal became the little sun at the center of the Earth's solar system and she overwhelmed Arthur. He was too hot in his own skin, feeling like he might combust, when the sun changed into the one he knew from his home system, hotter and blueish white.

Arthur tried not to approach it, having left his home planet and his life and that sphere behind, but it seemed the system's gravitational pull drew him in. Arthur orbited his home planet, intense in purple as if he could see it in the spectrum his species could. He never had been sure what his planet would look like in human visible light, limited in its color range.

Arthur plummeted suddenly, through the orange and yellow atmosphere, whispers of gaseous mass wetting his face. He impacted the surface and found himself surrounded by familiar gelatinous purple masses operating a technology that came second nature to him. As Arthur tried to communicate with them, the creatures didn't respond and he realized he was displaced, still in human form. Arthur ventured through the planet for what felt like ages, unable to communicate and seemingly invisible to his people. He panicked in the loneliness.

Then a familiar voice rang out over him and Arthur looked up, halting in his search.

"Incoming message from the Big Giant Head," resonated through the empty corridors in Harry's human voice. It was the first familiar voice he could understand for a long time, and Arthur searched the skies for its source in desperation. But the voice seemed to come from afar, so far that it must have been beyond this planet, carrying from a distant solar system, from the third rock from its sun.

Harry's voice carried a message about the inferiority of humanity and the necessity for its extinction, voice changing into the human form of the Big Giant Head himself. When the message ended, Arthur was filled with dread and he was returned to the silence of loneliness.

"Arthur," he heard and startled, looking down from the sky to find a familiar human, finally in all his time searching. Eames stood before him, clear and just out of reach, and as Arthur approached him he seemed to grow further away.

"Eames," Arthur called after him, willing him closer as if that were enough. Then a massive beam descended from the sky in slow motion, right above where Eames stood.

"Arthur," Eames said as he smiled. That quirk of lips tore through Arthur's chest.

"Eames!" Arthur shouted, trying to get Eames to see it, to move out of the line of fire, but the roar of the beam overpowered his voice. The beam consumed Eames, leaving nothing but a fiery, singed place on the earth where he'd stood a moment before. Arthur fell and wept, "Eames! Eames," he mourned.

Arthur looked up long enough to realize it wasn't just Eames he wept for, but an expanse of scorched earth enough to cover the surface of a planet where a whole civilization once stood.

He was on Earth.

Arthur sat bolt upright as Eames shook his shoulder.

"Arthur, are you alright mate?" Eames coaxed, fingers pressing the inside of Arthur's wrist. "Talk to me."

"Eames," Arthur said, breathing more heavily than he realized. He was drenched in sweat despite being cast in shadow by the setting sun.

"Are you alright, Darling?" Eames asked, concern writ raw across his face.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Arthur said. "Just a dream."

"That was one hell of a dream," Eames said, leaning forward to wipe the sweaty bangs back from Arthur's forehead. In all his time with Arthur, Eames hadn't seen him so physically disturbed by a dream. Normally Arthur would have withdrawn from another's touch, but Eames' palm was cool and soothing, with just the right amount of compassion.

"I didn't know I could dream without somnacin anymore," Arthur breathed with a forced smile to assure Eames not to worry. Eames' frown only seemed to deepen with Arthur's efforts. His transparency through Eames' eyes was always disarming.

"What was so dire it had you calling out in your sleep?" Eames asked softly, not demanding but clearly wanting to know.

"Never mind," Arthur said with a huff, collapsing back against his chair with a sigh. He was disappointed when the exhale didn't cleanse his anxiety the way he hoped.

"Was it the end of the world or something?" Eames half joked aloud and completely regretted his words when all of the color drained from Arthur's face. "Darling, I'm sorry. You don't have to tell me."

"Eames," Arthur said, shutting the other man up instantly. "I need to go see someone." Eames remained silent as if Arthur might continue and decided to back off and give him space. "My family," Arthur continued after a pause, "In the states."

"Is it so urgent?" Eames asked. "We can look for plane tickets to leave as soon as possible."

"You're not coming," Arthur declared and the hurt in Eames' eyes sent a familiar jolt through his chest reminiscent of the time in the dream when that beam had landed.

"Darling," Eames said, half pleading.

"Look. My family is a particularly unpleasant bunch. It's just better if you don't come, alright?"

"If a nightmare upset you so much you must immediately return to your family, I would like to come to be moral support."

"Eames," Arthur tried to say in frustration, though his heart wasn't in it. Apparently Eames saw right through him immediately. Of course.

"Besides, I wouldn't _dream_ of missing an opportunity to meet your family," Eames smiled, trying to distract Arthur from his inner turmoil. "I bet this will be delightful!"

"Uuuugh," Arthur groaned as he ran a hand through his hair. "Don't exploit my vulnerability to get your way, Mr. Eames."

"Darling," Eames said sincerely, trying to make it evident he was not making light of the situation. "If this is important I would like to be there to support you."

Arthur sighed in frustration. "This is going to be a catastrophe."

Eames smiled sweetly. Arthur wanted to punch him.

Instead, after a long pause, Arthur stood abruptly. Eames sat back to give him space and was startled when Arthur leaned down to his upturned face and kissed his lips gingerly.

"Mr. Eames," Arthur regarded shortly, then turned to walk inside.

Eames sat there a little dazed before smiling like a giddy schoolboy who'd just gotten his first kiss.

Two days later they were on a plane to the United States.


	3. 3 Family Reunion

"Tommy?" Sally exclaimed in surprise as she pulled him into a fierce hug. "Where have you been? We've missed you so much!"

Eames was a little taken aback by Arthur's submission to the embrace but it looked as though he might not have been able to break away from the Amazonian woman even if he wanted to.

"I must say, Darling, you have perhaps the strangest family I've ever met," Eames said next to Arthur as he watched Harry prance about reenacting some encounter he'd had.

"Don't remind me," Arthur bit out.

"Honestly. It's like you're the only human in the lot of them," Eames said nonchalantly. He turned to eye Arthur who has sputtered and was choking on his drink.

"Please Mr. Eames, never say that again."

Eames watched him sidelong, like he knew there was something Arthur wasn't letting him be privy to but would wait until a more exacting time to bring up. Arthur ignored his gaze, or so he told himself, though he could feel his ears prickling. Eames' eyes could be so invasive at times.

"Tommy! Son!" Dick said cheerily as he entered the room. He approached as if to hug Arthur but the suited man sidestepped him. Dick paused before straightening up. "That's right! You are a man now!" Dick extended his hand with a firm posture and serious expression. Arthur took his hand reluctantly but supposed it was better than dealing with a hug. Dick held his eye contact and slowly squeezed his hand unnecessarily hard. Arthur supposed the oaf was trying to gauge his manliness or something, perhaps who was the authoritarian figure now, he was sizing him up. Arthur squeezed back, no restraint and it was only a moment before Dick buckled and yanked his hand away. "Alright." He said as he straightened back up with pride.

"Wait! You're dead!" Dick exclaimed suddenly and Arthur would have face palmed if he hadn't grown out of such actions by now.

"Impressive, it seems I fooled even the great High Commander," Arthur countered. Dick sputtered briefly before breaking out in a manic smile.

"Well done my boy!" Dick laughed rather unnecessarily. "You played this inferior species like a well tuned fiddle!" Arthur tried to avoid the arm that slung over his shoulder but didn't have enough foresight to dodge it. Dick drew him in close as if to have a private conversation between them. "This ploy of faked death will be handy in our conquering of this world!"

"Wait, I thought we were on a research mission," Arthur interrupted, pulling back in surprise before he could restrain himself.

"Missions change," Dick said as if it was merely a changing of the winds, waving his hand to encourage Arthur envision it. Dick smiled toothily. "We've been upgraded!"

"Since when do we pursue military action?" Arthur asked.

"Since never," Dick answered. "But this comes down directly from the Big Giant Head himself! The order is to exterminate all human life."

"This wouldn't have something to do with the Big Giant Head's time spent as a human himself would it?"

As up if on cue, Vicki Dubcek walked in through the kitchen door.

"Honey! I'm home!" She exclaimed.

"Vicki!" Harry answered and ran to hug her. Dick and Arthur watched the engagement. Arthur gaped a little.

"Vicki?" Arthur hissed. "The mother of the Big Giant Head's baby?" He finished in disbelief.

"Yes." Dick said solemnly, "Father was not pleased. But who can blame him? If Mary had gone off with some subpar transmitter beacon, well! I don't know what I'd do!"

"Exterminate her entire species, apparently," Arthur breathed through his scowl.

"Oh lighten up Tommy! You haven't actually gotten attached to these inferior wads of flesh and bones!" Dick chided.

"Dick. You do realize Mary is one of those humans to exterminate." Dick spluttered.

"Mary? No, no," Dick laughed awkwardly. "She doesn't count."

"She can't just not count, Dick. She's one of them."

"Nonsense! I'll just take her with me," Dick said stubbornly. "I'm High Commander and what I say, goes!"

"But she's one of them," Arthur countered and as usual, Dick avoided what he didn't like or couldn't handle.

"So, Tommy, who is this well dressed human specimen?" Dick demanded intrusively as he held out his hand, expression taut.

"The name's Eames. It's a pleasure to finally meet Arthur's family," Eames said politely and with more sincerity than Arthur had any desire for.

"Arthur? Who's Arthur?" Dick said dumbly, shaking Eames' hand. Arthur was just grateful Dick didn't decide Eames needed sizing up too.

"I'm Arthur," he gritted out. "It's the name I took after my death.

"Ah, very clever," Dick nodded in understanding. "But you are still my son and you will be referred to as Tommy in this family," Dick declared authoritatively, finally releasing Eames' hand. "Now, who are you?" Dick asked Eames.

"He is my colleague from work," Arthur answered quickly before Eames could. Arthur's intense gaze toward a cheery Eames only made the man's smile widen.

"And what is work?" Dick asked, head held high as if interrogating.

"Diplomatic stuff, that sort," Eames said and Dick nodded as if he had any idea what their profession was.

"Well Tommy, you seem to have done well for yourself," Dick stated and for a moment Arthur panicked, thinking he was talking about Eames. But Dick came closer to examine Arthur's suit instead and he exhaled his tension silently.

"Let's stop stalling. You summoned me here on urgent business," Arthur interrupted.

"What's got your panties in a wad?" Sally asked. "What happened to the Tommy who used to have fun?"

"Clearly he died," Dick interjected.

Arthur resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Honestly, less than half an hour with these "people" and he was already reverting to childish impulses. Did humans normally deal with their families this way? It'd been so long since he'd seen them he couldn't remember.

"Due to the alteration in our mission objectives, we have been permitted to return briefly to the home planet." Dick explained, gone High Commander.

Arthur went icy inside. Eames had accompanied him with the expectation there had been a family tragedy. Arthur had hoped that was what it was. He hadn't anticipated the mention of their own planet and space voyage and Eames there to hear it all at once.

"Eames," Arthur interrupted Dick's ramblings. "Why don't you go out for a smoke."

"But I quit-"

"NOW," Arthur demanded.

"Alright, alright," Eames conceded from the sheer ferocity in Arthur's flat tone. He was reluctant to miss out on what Arthur clearly didn't want him to hear, but that was the nature of dream share. Privacy was respected, for the safety of everyone involved. He descended the stairs to the first floor and out the back door.

"That's right! Walk away human! Walk away from your world's destruction!" Dick shouted after Eames following up with malicious laughter.

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes none too gently. He inhaled with a gust, then exhaled very slowly, allowing some tension to ease from his shoulders.

"When do we receive the mission briefing?" Arthur asked, relieved when Dick gained some semblance of seriousness.

"Two weeks," the High Commander said, posture formal and authoritative. "The Big Giant Head will be coming here himself!"

"Two weeks," Arthur breathed.

* * *

"Eames, we need to talk," Arthur said seriously. He and Eames had returned to their hotel room after visiting Arthur's family a few hours before. It took a while for Arthur to gather the courage to tell Eames what he felt was necessary.

"Alright, Arthur," Eames said as he looked up from the information Arthur had collected for the current job they were planning.

"When we met my family I assume you realized that they're a bit...odd."

"Couple of nutters that lot, starting to understand why you disassociated yourself from them," Eames said with a nod.

"That's because they're aliens," Arthur said quickly like ripping off a bandaid. "I'm an alien," Arthur finished, running a nervous hand through his hair. "Like the outer space kind," Arthur added for clarification.

Eames just stood there and watched Arthur's expression, the man more uncomfortable in his own skin than Eames had ever seen him. Eames' hesitation to respond was only making Arthur more fidgety.

"Wait a tic," Eames deadpanned. "Who are you and what have you done with Arthur?" Eames finally responded, not believing Arthur would joke with him, especially in such a ridiculous way.

"What? No Eames, I'm serious."

"Right. And I'm second in line to the British throne," Eames said with eyebrows raised.

"Look, we came here on an exploration mission to learn about humanity," Arthur tried to explain. He figured if he was in this deep he might as well just go for it. "We inhabit human bodies to fit in with your culture and learn about you from assimilation."

"Uh huh," Eames agreed skeptically. "Please, go on."

"Dammit," Arthur rubbed his eyes in frustration. "I knew this wouldn't go over well," when Arthur's hand lowered Eames could see the dejection in Arthur's eyes, even if his face appeared emotionless. "Look, nevermind."

Eames was confused as Arthur turned around to walk away. He figured it wouldn't be so bad to indulge Arthur, considering Eames was blinded by his withheld affection for the man. Honestly though, who would believe something so ludicrous at face value. Assured in his suspicion Eames pushed genuine interest into his words.

"Is that why the lot of your family kept mentioning a home planet and your dad kept declaring himself the 'High Commander'?" Eames asked as though considering it for the first time in a serious light. He smiled inwardly when Arthur's footsteps paused.

"That's because Dick _is_ the High Commander," Arthur confirmed. He seemed reluctant to face Eames again, but turned slightly anyway.

"So that wasn't just some strange quirk," Eames said. "Your family isn't just a loony bunch, they're outright space men."

"I'm an outright space man," Arthur said with a slight lift to his lips. "Although technically we don't have genders until we're placed into a human body."

"I always knew there was something off about you," Eames agreed. "And I don't mean the gender bit, I mean the too serious beyond your years bit."

"I am older than the rest of the crew," Arthur said, turning fully to face Eames again. While he was still a little uncomfortable, Eames could see some of the tension and dejection leaving Arthur's body.

"Wait, how old are we talking? You're not like three hundred years old or some such?"

"Add a few centuries," Arthur said a little timidly, lips quirking. "In Earth time anyway." It seemed talking to someone about all of this amused Arthur in some way, too.

"You mean all this time I thought I'd been pursuing a younger bloke and here you're something like twenty times my age?" Eames said in disbelief, his expression visibly gaping.

"Something like that," Arthur smirked, a little more satisfied with having genuinely surprised Eames than he should have been, considering the magnitude of the situation.

"You don't actually look like big headed green creatures with massive eyes, do you?" Eames asked, now more taken by his curiosity rather than disbelief. His dumbfounded expression cleared a little when Arthur winced as if the idea disgusted him.

"Honestly Mr. Eames, you know very well not to trust the depiction of Hollywood media," Arthur said, his expression betraying his sincerity. "That is one of humanity's most regrettable mistakes. What makes your species think we all look like a deformed, discolored, miniature versions of yourselves with bloated eyes?"

"What does your species look like then?" Eames quarried, smirking from Arthur's offense. He was charmed when Arthur's serious demeanor softened again to timidity.

"The best way to describe it in your language is purple, tubular beings," Arthur said. "And we don't have eyes in the sense humans do." He remembered the closest in appearance on Earth to their species being some sea dwelling plant form lacking sentience. He straightened his back with pride, not willing to compromise the respect for his species despite how unimpressive they may sound to humans. Afterall, he came from a very intelligent and prosperous species, able to traverse the stars and transmit their consciousness into vessels from other solar systems.

"Huh," Eames said as if trying to process that. "Arthur, if all of this is true, why are you telling me? Have you told others?"

"You're the first," Arthur admitted. "And I'm telling you because the leader of my species desires to exterminate the human presence on your planet."

Eames' eyes widened. "So," he paused, again trying to process, "you're telling me because-?"

Arthur sighed. "Because, Mr. Eames, my crew and I have come to the consensus to explain the situation to our loved ones." Eames' attention snapped into focus. "In case our attempts to destroy humanity are successful, we should like to ensure the safety of those we have grown to value most of your species."

"Wait," Eames said, licking his lips to supplement how his mouth had gone dry. "Rewind to the part about loved ones?" Arthur resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"I believe I'm being quite transparent in my meaning, Mr. Eames."

"Right," Eames confirmed, the corner of his mouth lifting. "Just wanted to make sure I heard all that right. Out of curiosity, is there anyone else you'll be sharing these details with? Dom or Ariadne by chance?"

"No, Mr. Eames," Arthur said as if talking to a simpleton. Eames ignored his tone of annoyance, grinning quite unreservedly.

"Right, very well then."

"For being informed of your species impending doom you sure seem at ease," Arthur said.

"Ah, that, well, it's not like you actually want to destroy humanity and all that, do you?"

"No, but I have orders-"

"Orders? Arthur," Eames purred his name, "Those have never held you back before." Arthur scowled at the scheming tone in Eames' voice. "What are you going to do about it?"

"About what? It's been decided. This is the head of my entire species I'm talking about here."

"Considering exterminating your other species. You're not just them anymore, you're human too, Arthur," Eames said. Arthur paused, searching out Eames's eyes and found certainty there. It shook him a little, Eames's apparent solid faith in Arthur's abilities. Smug fucking forgers.

Then something hit Arthur.

"My species has never been outright hostile like this before," Arthur segwayed as he brainstormed. Eames let him go on, smiling slightly, knowing when Arthur had an idea it was usually quite good. "The Big Giant Head turned into a bit of an idiot when he took human form. In fact that seems to be a recurring theme with the transition to human," Arthur wondered aloud.

"That is an awful name for a leader, by the way, The Big Giant Head. It sounds like some terrible sexual innuendo."

"It sounds much more elegant in my species' language," Arthur assured, wincing a little at the innuendo part, he admittedly hadn't thought of that before. "It refers to the intellect of the leader and their ability to make judgements to progress our species."

"Your Big Giant Head doesn't seem to be thinking that levelly at the moment, does he? Not sure about you, but I'm pretty sure humans are no threat to your species, being in a whole other solar system and all. We can hardly make way to our own moon," Eames said, managing to make Arthur chuckle.

"Your species ability to get caught up in trivial matters is rather a bit of a long running joke among my 'family'," Arthur admitted. "Your mind's capacity for physics is a little embarrassing."

"Alright, Mate," Eames said in mock offense, nudging Arthur's shoulder. "I get we're inferior and all. You don't have to rub it in."

Arthur smiled at him, actually smiled, dimples and all. Eames was a little taken aback. Suddenly Arthur seemed to have a weight lifted off his shoulders, softening his serious exterior.

"At any rate, the Big Giant Head didn't start acting so irrationally until he became human," Arthur repeated.

"You said that," Eames encouraged. "Must be our inferior brains and all," he pressed, playing hurt. Arthur ignored him, not buying it for a second.

"For some reason the transition also made us obsessed with relationships," Arthur observed.

"All except you," Eames stated as if it was a little unfortunate.

"I learned to deal with the human urges by going through puberty and growing beyond it," Arthur continued, oblivious to Eames' expression as he thought out loud. "Dick, Sally and Harry all sought out some human to connect with, and so did the Big Giant Head. As soon as he got here he wound up dating Vicki."

"Vicki? You mean your uncle's girlfriend?" Eames interjected as the pieces slowly fell into place.

"Yes," Arthur nodded. "She had The Big Giant Head's baby."

Eames rubbed a hand over his face.

"That'll do it," Eames said and Arthur turned to study him. Eames looked at him sidelong. "So let me get this straight. Your leader dates your uncle's ex-girlfriend, said girlfriend has leader's baby, girlfriend ditches leader to be with ex-boyfriend? And now the leader wants to annihilate the entire human species."

"Humans are so simple," Arthur sighed, shaking his head in disappointment.

"We've probably wiped out entire cultures over lesser disputes."

"How have humans managed not to go extinct this long?" Arthur pondered as if he hadn't fully considered the idea before.

"We seem to thrive in overwhelming challenges, I suppose," Eames shrugged. "As I suspect you will do now."

Arthur looked at Eames, puzzling out grey eyes as his lips quirked.

"Not such high expectations, Mr. Eames," Arthur retorted, stepping a little closer to him. "I may not be able to live up to them," he warned.

"Whatever the outcome, darling," Eames said in a near whisper, closing the distance to mere inches between them. "At least we will have tried."

Eames took Arthur's hands in his own, pressing right up into his space. Eames brushed his lips against Arthur's, gentle and inviting, but not pushing.

"If it's anything, we should try," Eames whispered, lips brushing Arthur's as he spoke. Referring to more than just saving the world, Eames wanted to share something more with Arthur, if he would only give him the chance.

Arthur inhaled as his eyes fluttered, unaccustomed to physical contact with another, at least not for a long time and he let his lips move softly. When Eames groaned at Arthur's response, fire shot through Arthur and he impulsively kissed harder. Arthur raised his hands to Eames' shoulders and gasped when arms wrapped loosely around his waist, pulling their fronts flush.

Eames use the leverage of his arms about Arthur to roll their hips together, and Arthur's lips fell open on a choked whimper. Eames was warm and soft against Arthur's hips and he pressed into that warmth. Eames licked at Arthur's parted mouth, thrilled when the tip of his own tongue was met by Arthur's. Eyes opening, Arthur leaned back enough to look into Eames'. The open uncertainty writ on his face worried Eames.

"Arthur darling, if there is to be an end of the world, I want to show you just what my time with you has meant to me," Eames whispered. "I promise it won't go further than this, just let me show you." He nipped at Arthur's lips who was a little stunned. "Let me love you," Eames said, barely audible, both an offer and a plea. He watched Arthur's dark eyes, lips beautifully parted and wanted badly to devour him, but knew that would be beyond the boundaries. He didn't want to scare Arthur off, who was extremely averse to committing to another individual.

Eames' heart leaped into his throat when Arthur nodded slowly, arousal drunkened. He looked down at Eames' lips, pressing the pad of a thumb against his full lower lip and dragging it across. Eames ducked his head, sucking the tip of Arthur's thumb between his lips and Arthur's breath hitched as he inadvertently groaned. Arthur let his forehead lean to rest against Eames'.

Eames nearly lost his balance when Arthur was the one to press his hips tentatively into Eames'. Arthur's thumb lowered, his hand pressing to Eames' throat in question, and Eames answered by leaning his head forward to intensify the pressure. Arthur seemed to be somehow testing unspoken boundaries of what their relationship could be and Eames wanted Arthur aware he was willing to give and take just about anything he could get. Arthur made an abandoned sort of sound and he kissed Eames, breath growing heavy and reckless. His hand wrapped more fully around Eames' neck, not adding more pressure but more feeling the way Eames' throat worked as they kissed, the suggestion of the pose enough for Arthur's pleasure. Hands skimming along Arthur's hips, Eames found the button at the front of his pants.

"May I," Eames said hoarsely against Arthur's hand, and was pleased when lips met his own. Eames made quick work of Arthur's buttons and zipper, sliding Arthur's pants and underwear down around his thighs to expose him, despite his haze. Eames cupped Arthur's cock who inhaled sharply when his strong hand squeezed. Arthur's hands tightened as Eames stroked him slowly until he grew impatient.

"Get on with it, Mr. Eames," Arthur commanded, voice hoarse. Eames' heart leaped and he quickly unbuttoned his own pants, letting them fall down haphazardly and pressed into Arthur.

The heat of their cocks touching left Arthur's mouth agape, eyes closed as Eames' arms wrapped back around him. Skimming his hands up Arthur's bare back beneath his dress shirt, Eames kneaded along his spine. Arthur pressed into him, his own hands lowering to Eames' hips to slot them tighter together. His hands slipped around slowly to Eames' backside, as if awaiting rejection, but was only met with an approving whimper from Eames.

Feeling encouraged, Arthur squeezed Eames' ass, jerking their hips together. Eames rolled his hips needily in response, completely losing his self control at Arthur's initiative. Arthur seemed equally as desperate, thrusting along Eames' cock with abandon. They rutted noisily, Eames' lips grazing Arthur's though they were both a little too far gone to kiss properly.

When Arthur pulled away, Eames almost panicked, cold washing over his groin. But then Arthur was gripping the collar of his shirt, turning Eames in a dizzying 180* and pushing him backwards. He stumbled through the living room doorway, trying to keep his footing but bounced backward onto the chaise lounge when the edge of it hit the back of his knees. Arthur tumbled clumsily down over him, not letting go of Eames' collar in time, but adjusted immediately to slot their cocks together as he crawled and wriggled over Eames.

Eames revelled in Arthur's near feral movements, like he didn't know anything but the sex between them. Arthur kissed him briefly before he leaned up to gain better leverage, hands and weight resting on Eames' chest and constricting his air flow. Eames' hands gripped Arthur's hips, encouraging the rough friction as they ground their cocks together, precum and perspiration letting them slide smoothly. Arthur let all of his weight rest on one hand, lifting the other to Eames' lips which parted for him. Eames sucked in Arthur's fingers again, tongue lapping at them and Arthur's head dipped down, unable to support himself anymore.

Eames' hand caressed around Arthur's backside, parting him until his fingertips grazed Arthur's entrance. Eames moaned when Arthur's rhythm stuttered and sped up.

"I won't," Eames whispered as Arthur's fingers slipped from his lips with the attention. "I just-" Eames' fingers circled Arthur's entrance, adding just enough pressure for pleasure to shoot straight to Arthur's cock.

Arthur's arms trembling beneath him, he groaned loudly, thrusting with desperation against Eames' thick cock. Each thrust back added more pressure to Arthur's entrance and he came across Eames' belly. The insinuation of Eames' fingers had blurred his vision and Arthur's brain went numb, collapsing on top of Eames.

Arthur continued to thrust futilely post orgasm, whimpering as Eames' hands gripped his hips and thrust up into them a few times. Slick from Arthur's orgasm and the extra glide from his cum, Eames came as he gripped Arthur with near bruising force.

Overstimulated and needing the pressure to lift from his groin, Arthur moaned aloud and sunk his teeth into Eames' neck in warning. Eames made a rather undignified yelp when Arthur bit him, and he smiled sleepily against Eames' throat, not letting go until he thought it would make a mark.

Eames' grip and hips finally subsided, hands moving up Arthur's damp back. Arthur removed his lips, shuddering at the brush of Eames' hands. Arthur sat back, lifting his arms as Eames stripped off the shirt that had been rucked up his torso. Arthur stood then, removing his own soiled shirt and Eames stripped while still lying on the lounge. They wiped themselves clean and Arthur laid down on the plush rug next to Eames, wrapping himself in a blanket, since they likely wouldn't both fit on the lounge side by side. He needed space to cool off.

Eames rolled over onto his belly, arm draping off the side of the lounge to rest his hand on Arthur's chest. Arthur opened his eyes sleepily and smiled up at Eames who grazed along the center of his belly and back up.

"The world should threaten to end more often," Eames smiled. Arthur lazily pushed his hand away.

"Get over yourself Mr. Eames," Arthur tried to bite back, but more just sleepily whispered somewhat nonsensically.

"Of course, Darling," Eames agreed, sliding off the lounge to lay beside Arthur, dragging another blanket and long pillow with him. He stuffed the pillow under Arthur's stubborn head and covered them. Eames smiled against Arthur's shoulder when he threw an arm over him and wasn't brushed off. "Anything, Darling," Eames said into Arthur's sleeping neck just before dozing off himself.

* * *

"Mr. Eames!" Arthur commanded, "It's time to get up. We have work to do."

Eames groaned, body stiff from having slept on the floor. He was disappointed he couldn't at least wake with Arthur in his arms to take the edge off of his aching muscles. Eames dozed off again until he was rudely awaken by a wad of clothes to the face. He sat upright, regretting the sudden movement when his aching back spasmed and he fell back to the rug, arms spayed lazily.

"Arthur, Darling, wake me when it's a decent time, not," Eames paused to look at his wrist watch. "Ten in the morning," he finished, frustrated it wasn't actually early at all.

"Come Mr. Eames, we have a job to do," Arthur demanded and Eames submitted with a huff.

"Yes, High Commander!" Eames mocked and Arthur made a noise between a scoff and an awkward burst of a laugh.

Satisfied with himself, Eames got up off the floor to confront a freshly showered Arthur in one of his suits.

"What did you have in mind?" Eames said as he stood up and took his time to stretch. He didn't bother covering up his own nudity and chuckled when Arthur tried his best to keep his eyes on Eames' face despite his flush. Arthur swallowed.

"I thought we could work in a feeling of remorse and regret for what is to come," Arthur said a little hoarsely. He cleared his throat quietly before continuing, turning to face the window so he didn't have to see Eames' backside enter the bathroom. "Perhaps we can also try to subdue the Big Giant Head's need for revenge as well, convince him that Vicki regrets leaving him, that she did it for the baby. The easiest exploit is the Big Giant Head's child."

"Do continue," Eames said before sticking his toothbrush back in his mouth. He'd been decent enough to wrap a towel about his waist so Arthur could focus. Honestly, nudity had never been such a big deal before.

Arthur continued to brainstorm as Eames offered input and solutions so the job could run more smoothly.

So they were doing this. Arthur sighed out his apprehension and lost himself to Eames' conversation.


End file.
